How dare he touch her?
“That was the Black Chains sergeant at arms.” Molly began to push back toward my bike. “You need to get out of here right now!”
“How bad could a biker gang based out of sleepy little Caldwell Hope be?”
Molly lifted the back of the bikers vest revealing a holstered pistol on the small of his back, then she flashed me a hard look and said, “Bad enough.”
She jolted away as the biker began to stir. He'd be awake soon.
“Please go, Luke.” Her eyes pleaded with me. She was worried for my safety. She said she had moved on, but that wasn't the look you gave to someone you didn't care about.
She hadn’t moved on. She still cared about me.
“I can't.” My hand touched her cheek; it was red and hot from where he slapped her. I drew my lips in a tight line and looked at her firmly, unshakably. “Not without you.”
A dangerous cocktail of emotions and panic flashed in her beautiful brown eyes. I wish I knew what was going on inside her head. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, but this wasn't the time or place for that.
She was right, soon other armed men would be on us. I only had the time to tell her one thing and I didn't even need words to say it.
I won't ever leave you again.
“Ok, fine. Let's go.” She held out her hand. I grabbed it and led her toward my bike. “You can't take me home. That's the first place Cannonball will look. I need to go somewhere until he sobers up.”
“Don't worry I know a place that they'll never be able to follow us to.” I helped her onto the back of the bike. “Cannonball? Really?”
“No one gets to pick their club names.” Molly strapped on my helmet with an alarming amount of practiced skill. What was the story here? Molly was a librarian at an elementary school, what the hell was she doing hanging out with guys who had pirate nicknames? “And don't get any ideas. I still hate you for what you did.”
“Yeah, I do too.” I let out the clutch, kicked the bike into gear and sped us out to the one place I knew she'd be safe.
It was also the one place I was expressly forbidden from going.
Chapter 6
Richard
“So in closing, I thank you all for joining me tonight on my mother's birthday. This town meant the world to her. I'll leave you with a few words of wisdom my father once gave me when I asked him how I could best serve my friends, my peers, and my community. He said simply two words: Open bar.” I flashed my boardroom smile and waved through the thunderous laughter and applause.
I idly rubbed my cufflinks, beneath the jacket of my two-tone midnight blue and black suit as I descended the stairs. It was a habit I had. Touching the cool silver always grounded me whenever I had to make speeches or big decisions.
The country club wasn't designed for presentations of this scale so I had to retrofit their terraced flower gardens by the compound's main entrance with sound, lighting and a stage.
My assistant and I made our way down to the sea of green between the valet and where the course proper started. The over five hundred initially assembled guests had started to disperse about the grounds, except for the journalists and reporters.
They always hung around.
I wouldn't have invited them if I had the option, but when it came to business and events there was a certain way of doing things that was expected. They started in right away with forced pleasantries.
“What's your handicap, Richard?” One reporter asked.
“I don't golf.”
“You bought the most prestigious golf club in the state for a party?”
“This might go down as the most expensive party in Colorado history.”
“More of a celebration, really,” I said. “Besides I've always wanted to try out one of those Segway golf carts they have here.”
I answered their barrage of questions as quickly and efficiently as I could until it turned to updates on my father's decreasing health. At that point I courteously bowed out and let my assistant, Jamie, give the canned replies and sound bites that they were all really after.
I spent the following hour meeting and talking with many of the guests. When I finally made it inside the building I spotted my friends, Dempsey and his wife Jillian, at the bar. They were a small safe haven were I could relax my public persona.
The night was far from over. It was a bad sign that I already needed a brief break.
“Impressive.” Dempsey extended a hand with what looked like a Tom Collins cocktail. “You've managed to get all Caldwell Hope's single, attractive and successful women in one place. I wish I'd thought of this when we were in college.”
“Don't be rude, Lovebug.” Jillian elbowed her husband for the joke, then stretched her arms to offer me a greeting hug. They had always been the greatest couple in my, albeit limited, group of friends. They flew in from California this morning to lend their support, and partly because they were bored, and looking for something to do.
I quickly drained half the drink Dempsey gave me, not realizing how parched I was from talking so much.
“This was a lovely gesture, Richard.” Jillian smiled warmly, then draped herself over her husband's shoulder. From her perfect blonde bun to the elegant way she moved in her six inch heels, Jillian always had a regalness about her. She'd have been a queen had she been born in the right century and country.
“So who are you trying to impress?” She raised an eyebrow and settled in with a knowing smirk. She was also deceptively brilliant at getting to the heart of things. “Or are you trying to impress them all?”
“So you can say it?” Dempsey asked with some feigned indignation.
“Of course,” She replied with a shrug.
“I'll have you both know I carefully curated the guest list to include local artists, writers, bloggers, prominent cultural figureheads, and small business owners. I'm simply serving my community.” I raised my glass for a toast.
Everything I said on that stage I meant. My mother did love this town and I really liked the thought of honoring her birthday by bringing people together.
Meeting the best women from Caldwell Hope in one fell swoop was an added bonus. She would've wanted me to be happy.
And happiness to me meant beating my brother.
“Who was that golden-haired vision you were just speaking to?” Dempsey asked, swirling his nearly empty glass.
“That’s Ms. Madison Grace, the governor’s daughter.” I kept glancing around the room as my friends and I talked. “Nice enough girl, I’ll be taking her to dinner next week”
The night was still fairly young and I'd already gotten the numbers or business cards of half a dozen beautiful young ladies.
That wasn't enough. I scanned the faces of the newest arrivals. Was I looking for someone?
I felt this odd sense of yearning. I was looking for someone else; someone in particular. I didn't know who that was until she was practically dragged into the room by her tall, blonde friend.
“If you'll excuse me…” I perked up at the sight of Gloria; the rude, yet vulgarly artistic, coffee barista and co-owner of Black Rocket Records.